


Teddy Bear Hospital

by InkgooSupernova



Series: The Winter System [30]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bed-Wetting, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Bucky Barnes has DID - Dissociative Identity Disorder, Catheters, Cock & Ball Torture, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Domestic Avengers, Evil Alexander Pierce, Happy Ending, Hospitals, Humiliation, I'm Sorry, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Infection, Injury, Injury Recovery, Kid Bucky Barnes, M/M, Medical Procedures, Medical Trauma, Multi, Non-Sexual Age Play, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Sick Character, Sickfic, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, Surgery, Urination, Vomiting, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:26:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24388168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkgooSupernova/pseuds/InkgooSupernova
Summary: The reason behind the shove became obvious as Winnie's little body heaved with a painful, silent retch, followed by a small torrent of oddly colored stomach acid escaping him, forming a puddle on the floor.It was almost black, and looked like coffee grounds.The three stared in sudden, gripping horror as the realization set in.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson
Series: The Winter System [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1693231
Comments: 86
Kudos: 141





	1. Rotten Stuffing

**Author's Note:**

> This story features graphic depictions of vomiting and other medical issues as well as references to past medical trauma, sexual abuse, and physical abuse at the hands of Hydra.
> 
> Reader Discretion is Advised.

Sam sighed as the man resting on his lap curled in tighter on himself.

"You doin' okay?" He asked as softly as he possibly could, running his hand over the other's head.

"Ahhh..." Winnie whimpered.

"Hm? Are you hungry? Do you-"

" _CHOO!_ "

Winnie sniffled before nuzzling back into Sam's lap. He sighed, rubbing the sickly teddy's shoulder.

"It's gonna be okay, little guy..." He mumbled.

"Found it." Steve stepped into the room, holding up a mercury thermometer. It was better than nothing.

Winnie had woken up that morning with an unusual coughing fit, kicking the blankets off of himself as the heat of a sudden fever got too much for him. It was unusual for Bucky's body to get sick, what with the mock serum and all, but it was not unheard of. For all they know this could be a flu only manifesting itself as a cold thanks to their body's healing capabilities.

Sam leaned back to give Steve some space, watching as the other man carefully stuck the thermometer into the little teddy's mouth. "Try to hold that under your tongue, lamb." Steve mumbled, petting the tiny bear's head. "He feels awfully warm..."

"A wet rag might do some good?" Sam thought out loud, carefully rubbing the sickly bear's shoulder as he shuttered in the cold air. They couldn't let him overheat, but watching him suffer while also having to deal with being so cold damn near broke Sam's heart.

"You really should go home," Steve sighed, patting Sam's shoulder. "I don't know what's got a hold of him, and if it's contagious, I don't want you getting sick too. If it's a bad cold for him, it could be deadly to you."

"I'll take that risk, I'm not leaving him like this. If he suddenly doesn't know where he is, in this state, it could end badly." Sam countered, and Steve couldn't help the way his skin paled. He was right, if Winnie- or any of the others, for that matter- had a sudden bout of confusion in their sickened delirium and accidentally confused Steve for their 'old Daddy', it could end in disaster. Having Sam helped to keep them company while Steve found the needed tools to help them feel better, while also providing a good barrier between reality and the past.

That, and he really didn't want to leave his little family alone to suffer on their own.

Winnie shot up, sudden and startled, before spitting out the thermometer and making a break for the bathroom.

He didn't get very far, however, as he tripped over the blankets that pooled around the bed, leading him to land flat on his face.

"Oh lamb, here, here-" Steve tried to help him back up, but was quickly shoved away by a hard push.

The reason behind the shove became obvious as Winnie's little body heaved with a painful, silent retch, followed by a small torrent of oddly colored stomach acid escaping him, forming a puddle on the floor.

It was almost black, and looked like coffee grounds.

The three stared in sudden, gripping horror as the realization set in.

That was half-digested blood. Blood had found its way into his stomach.

_He was bleeding internally._

"Hospital. Now." Sam was immediately on high alert. His family was in danger, and could very well die if they didn't find the source of the bleeding and stop it fast.

"NO!" Winnie yelped, his voice far too painful and hoarse with coughing and puking. The _last_ thing they wanted was to go to the hospital. Those had doctors and doctors would take them away and steal all of their blood and make them kill people again and and _and_ -

"Winnie, lamb, I know you're scared," Steve was holding the panicking teddy as Sam gathered a few supplies into a bag. "But this is very serious, you're hurt very badly and we need to find where you're hurt so we can stop it. We're gonna go to the Shield clinic, I promise they wont hurt you, but you need to be brave for me."

" **NO!** " Winnie barked before falling silent, followed by another painful retch and another puddle of coffee-ground looking fluids on the floor.

This was bad.

They really didn't have a choice of going or not, they all knew it.

"Look, all of you can hate me later, but I'm not letting you die." Steve huffed, his panic turning into determination as he scooped up the petrified teddy bear. "They're not gonna hurt you, it's gonna be okay."

The three managed to get to the Jeep, Sam stopping in the kitchen for a second to grab a large pot just in case Winnie felt the need to puke again. It was a good judgement call, as the little teddy puked once again as they pulled out of the tower's parking garage.

This was _bad._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **References:**
> 
> If you puke up a deep brown or nearly black substance with the consistency of wet coffee grounds (like in a filter that one would throw away after making coffee), it means that blood has found its way into your stomach and is being partially digested, and you should seek medical attention immediately.


	2. Holding Onto Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What if they couldn't stop the bleeding?" Steve was anxious, sue him. A large chunk of the little family he had left in the world was currently in the one kind of place they hated most with a medical anomaly that could very easily snuff out their life right before his eyes. He was a little on edge.

Steve was pacing the length of the waiting room.

The three had made it to the SHIELD clinic, where they were quickly greeted by a front desk nurse. After explaining that Bucky was puking up partially digested blood and had a fever of one-oh-two degrees Fahrenheit, the frightened little teddy was quickly whisked into a medical exam room. Steve and Sam stayed by his side, holding his little paws and soothing him the best they could, as the doctors administered the anesthetic to the panicking body on the stretcher.

That was three hours ago.

"What if they couldn't stop the bleeding?" Steve was anxious, sue him. A large chunk of the little family he had left in the world was currently in the one kind of place they hated most with a medical anomaly that could very easily snuff out their life right before his eyes. He was a little on edge.

"They know what they're doing, Steve, you've gotta trust them." Sam reassured. That didn't stop the way his hands nervously rubbed together, finger tips dragging against his knuckles as he tried to soothe himself. He was terrified, but he had to be strong for the others. Winnie will be mortified when he wakes up, and he and Steve both need to be strong enough to keep him from panicking off the deep end.

He knew that none of them would ever be able to forgive themselves if they accidentally hurt someone in their blinding panic.

"I know, I just," Steve sighed, sitting down next to the other man. "I'm scared."

"I know, me too, but he's gonna be okay." Sam mumbled, rubbing comforting circles into his back between his shoulders blades.

The two sat in the barely comfortable waiting chair, watching the motionless doors.

Steve couldn't stop himself from standing back up, pacing the small room once again.

Sam sighed before making his way to a nearby vending machine. They hadn't had breakfast that morning, and he knew Steve would get sick too if he didn't eat something. He made his way back to the worrying man, handing him an energy bar while keeping one for himself.

The two ate in tense silence.

Steve sat down, fishing his phone from his pocket and texting someone. Most likely Natasha, he usually told her when important things happened.

These small movements within the waiting room lasted for another six hours. They were only interrupted by Natasha showing up with some lunch for the two men.

"Any updates?" Natasha asked, handing Sam one of the bags of food. Neither of them bothered to notice where the food had come from, all they knew was it smelled like fast food. Better than nothing.

"Zilch. Nothing. No one's even walked out here." Steve was getting frustrated, barely unwrapping his burger before biting into it. "He probably died on the operating table and just don't have the balls to tell us. Don't want to see Captain America crying because his boyfriend bled to death."

"Steve, you can't say that." Sam barked, glaring daggers at his boyfriend. "You'll jinx it, you need to have some kind of hope. They're extremely busy trying to help him. Just calm down."

"Sam, he's _bleeding for no reason._ What if they didn't find the source in time?" Steve snapped back, the unbridled fear obvious on his face.

"You have to trust that they did. Getting worked up isn't helping anything, you're just gonna stress him out when they let us in." Sam countered, trying to keep his own stress-related anger down. He couldn't lose someone else close to him, not again.

He realized that Steve, too, was terrified of losing someone close to him yet again. They were both terrified.

Sam barely noticed the tears in his own eyes.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I just," Steve set his half eaten food on his lap, rubbing his face with his hands. "I can't lose him. Not again."

"I know, I know." Sam set his own food down, no longer hungry from the knots of worry in his stomach, pulling the other man into a sort of awkward side-hug. "We aren't gonna lose him. He's gonna be just fine. When all of this is over, we'll go home together and have a nice, warm dinner. I promise."

Steve wanted to say that the other man couldn't promise that, but he desperately wanted him to be right more, so for once he kept his mouth shut, silently praying to whatever god would listen to him to please keep their little family safe.

"Captain Rogers, Mr. Wilson," A nurse in blue scrubs walked out, his face neutral and passive.

Please, god, let them be okay.


	3. Torn Seams, as it Seems

Winnie whimpered as the bright fluorescent lights pierced his sensitive eyes.

The last thing he could remember was Daddy holding his paw and Uncle Sam helping him count backwards from ten, while he was lying in a rolling bed and a doctor put a funny looking mask on his face.

Doctor. Mask. Unconsciousness.

Oh no.

The Soldier was in immediate protector mode, springing to life the moment his eyes fully opened. He found his wrists bound to the hospital bed he was currently laying in, with an IV cannula invading the thin skin of his cubital. He could barely focus on trying to escape his restraints, his head suddenly swimming the moment he sat upright.

They must have drugged him.

Winnie whined in protest as his head floated like a balloon, forcing him to lay back down in the soft hospital bed.

"'M gunna kill them." The Soldier slurred, trying to focus on _anything_ that could aid in his escape.

"Chill out, the..." Bucky's voice trailed off, trying to focus on his words as the Soldier glared around the room. It was very distracting. "The body just made an error or something, the doctors fixed it, Steve an' Sam are gunna be back any minute."

"They drugged us." The Soldier snarled, trying desperately to keep his head up while Winnie desperately fought him to lay back down. "Can't move."

"'S painkillers, ya ding dong. And they prob'ly put those restraints on you cause they knew ya'd start freakin' out an' didn't wan'cha destroying the room." Bucky huffed. "Jus' let me go back t' sleep. Y'know I hate doctors."

Winnie finally had some peace and quiet as Bucky and the Soldier fell back into the unconscious zone of their brain, letting him rest his tired, swimming head on the pillows beneath him.

That is, until he heard the door open.

When he opened his eyes again, he wasn't in the bright room anymore. He was now in a nicely lit room that looked more like a proper hospital, like the pretty ones they would see in commercials. The fabric cuffs weren't on their wrists anymore, either, but he didn't quite have the energy to move his little arms.

"Hey there, lamb." Daddy's head peaked through the door before he and Uncle Sam stepped inside, followed by two people, one in a funny blue outfit and one in a doctor coat. "How are you feeling?"

"Mhhmm..." Winnie whined, rubbing his eyes with his metal paw. He didn't want to move the arm with the tube in it, he knew it would hurt if it got jostled.

"Does your head feel funny?" Uncle Sam asked, earning a nod from the tired teddy. "That's okay, it's just the medicine to make your stitches not hurt so much."

Stitches. That made sense. He's a teddy bear, and teddy bears have stitches.

"Wai', Stishes?" The Soldier's voice suddenly slurred out. Their body was (mostly) human, and humans don't have stitches unless they either a, had an open injury, or b, had an invasive surgery.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, you're safe." The Captain was already at his side, taking his metal hand into his own. "We're right here, no one took anything, you're safe."

"Sergeant Barnes, you had a minor blood vessel rupture that resulted in internal hemorrhaging," The Doctor spoke in a slow, clear voice. Her voice sounded nice, which made all of them feel just a little better. "We were able to fix it, but we're going to keep you in for a few days to keep an eye on your condition. You should heal just fine once it gets healed up."

They thought for a moment, thinking of their prognosis. Truthfully, the Soldier went a little rougher than normal at their sparing session the day before. He tucked his head a little in sudden, sheepish embarrassment.

"Don't worry, you're safe, no one here is gonna hurt you." The Captain carefully stroked his hand.

Winnie sighed as he laid his head back down, already feeling loopy and dizzy for sitting up for too long.

"You two are free to visit until visiting hours are over, we'll be in to give him some more medication and a meal later." The nurse explained before he and the doctor left the room to give them their privacy.

"Hey there, you were so very brave, we're so proud of you." Uncle Sam hummed, gently rubbing his slightly aching shoulder.

Winnie could only produce a soft, grumbling noise as he nuzzled into his pillow, trying to focus on anything other than the strange, loopy feeling in his head.

"Wher's th' stitches?" Bucky's voice mumbled, already letting go of Steve's hand to try and find the mentioned remnants of their surgery.

"They're just between your sternum and belly, they're patched up but you might be able to see them when the nurse comes in to change the bandages, if you want to see them." Steve explained, hovering a finger on a spot of his body that was currently hiding under his surgical gown and blanket.

"Better than it could've been." Bucky mumbled, letting his head lay back down. "Don't leave, kay? Not until this stuff wears off. Can't be alone."

"We aren't going anywhere." Sam hummed, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, with Steve following close behind. Bucky sighed in content at the feeling of the two men so close to him, protecting him from the dangers that surrounded them.

Winnie sighed as he nuzzled back into his pillow, his metal thumb finding its way into his mouth as he let his eyes drift shut.

The loopiness in his head was starting to get to him.


	4. The Bravest You've Ever Been

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Captain Rogers, Mr. Wilson, visiting hours are over. Sergeant Barnes needs to rest." The nurse explained as he stepped into the room.

"Captain Rogers, Mr. Wilson, visiting hours are over. Sergeant Barnes needs to rest." The nurse explained as he stepped into the room.

After a couple hours of rest, Winnie's head no longer felt like it was swimming, which made him feel a _lot_ better. However, at the same time as his head started to feel better, the new stitches on his tummy began to itch and ache something awful.

Steve looked over to the nurse, while Sam was quietly telling Winnie a story. "Now? What about the rest of the night? He can't be left alone here." He tried to reason with the nurse, to no avail.

"He will be just fine, and you can visit as soon as visiting hours begin tomorrow. But it's time to go home now." The nurse explained with restrained empathy, but Steve was having none of it. Not while his little family would be left alone and scared in the one type of place they feared being trapped in the most.

Winnie immediately began to fret, pulling Steve's attention away from the nurse.

"Hey, lamb, it's gonna be okay," Sam hummed, his soft voice even managing to soothe Steve just a little. "The nice people here are gonna keep you safe, and we'll be back as soon as we can tomorrow morning, but for tonight, we need you to be the bravest you've ever been."

Jamesy recognized that phrase. Bluey had told Indy that she had to go home for the night after she had her early baby while they were playing 'Baby Hospital' at their play group. Indy didn't want to leave her baby, who had to stay in the hospital because she was born too early- like her sister in real life, Bluey had explained- and Bluey had told her that she had to be the bravest she's ever been and go home to rest.

"Y'u're gonna b' back t'morrow, promise?" Jamesy whimpered, which damn near broke Steve's heart. His little boy sounded so very _scared_ at the prospect of being left alone in the hospital. He wanted nothing more than to stay at his family's side, but he really didn't have a choice in the matter.

"I promise, we'll both be back as soon as we can, and we'll stay with you all day." Sam hummed, his eyes sparkling with a sudden reminder as he reached for the bag he had packed during the panic that felt like an eternity ago back in their apartment. "Here, I brought these, they'll keep you company."

Jamesy gasped as Sam produced his beloved Winnie plush and his favorite triceratops plush from the bag, gently placing them in the crook of his arms as to not disturb his tubes. Thank'y'u, Uncle Sam." Jamesy smiled, using his metal arm to hug both of the plushes to his chest.

Steve watched as the little boy sighed, puffed up his chest, and nodded. "'Kay, 'm gonna be th' braves' I've ever been." He announced in his soft yet determined voice, earning a gentle hug and a few forehead kisses from his two guardians.

"We're so proud of you, I love you, Jamesy. Call the nurses if you need _anything_ , okay? They wont get mad at you and they wont hurt you." Steve explained, pointing to the tiny remote that the nurse had shown them earlier. After a nod from Jamesy, and a few more hugs in a fruitless bid to stall for time, the two men made their way out of the hospital room and down the hall towards the exit.

Steve immediately felt himself deflate, realizing that that night would be the first time Bucky would not be in the same place as him while he slept since the trial.

The car ride back to the tower was silent and tense, both Steve and Sam were obviously nervous for their boyfriend's safety. Sure, the doctors wouldn't hurt them on _purpose_ , but what if they accidentally spook the Soldier and cause him to panic and hurt himself trying to escape? Or accidentally scare Jamesy and make him think he's back with his old Daddy and going to be punished? Or accidentally startle Winnie and cause him to start crying with no one who knows him to comfort him? Or hell, accidentally hurting Bucky and causing him to not remember where he is and cause a panic attack? All of these thoughts ran through Steve's head at a mile a minute as he tried to focus on the road ahead of him. He wouldn't be able to help at _all_ if they die in a car crash before tomorrow.

Thankfully, they made it back to the tower with no issues, informing Tony and a few others of the prognosis as they made their way back to their apartment. It had been a very, very long day, but Steve was in no mood to sleep.

He hadn't noticed how long he was staring out the window by their bed until Sam's voice pulled him from his thoughts.

"Steve, you've gotta get some sleep, they're gonna be fine." Sam all but pleaded, sitting next to his strung-out boyfriend. "It's not gonna do them any good if you walk into that room tomorrow as tight as a tripwire."

"But they're all alone in there, you heard how upset Jamesy got." Steve argued, trying to keep his stressed, frightened tears from spilling over. "What if he thinks we're abandoning him?"

"Steve, babe," Sam sighed, resting a hand on his shoulder. "He trusts us to be there tomorrow, that will be all the proof he needs to know we aren't abandoning him. You heard him, he wants to show how brave he can be. Now you need to show him how brave _you_ can be, and get some rest."

Steve couldn't argue with that, no matter how much he wanted to. All he wanted was to hold his two best men in his arms and keep them safe forever. However, he would be doing his family an injustice to not show that he could at least _try_ to be strong and brave for them. He sighed, defeated, and stood up to get ready for bed.

He still couldn't help the cold feeling in his guts as he snuggled into Sam's chest, feeling the other's chin resting against the crown of his head. The bed felt much too small without the third body hogging up most of the space.

"It's gonna be okay, Steve, we're gonna see them first thing in the morning, and in just a few days, we're all gonna be sleeping in the same apartment again." Sam hummed, pressing a soft kiss to his head.

"I love you. Thank you so much." Steve sighed, rubbing his cheek against the other's chest.

The two drifted off to sleep, awaiting what tomorrow would bring them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **References**
> 
> The episode of Bluey mentioned is the episode [Early Baby](https://www.bluey.tv/watch/season-1/early-baby/)


	5. Is That Any Way to Play With Your Toys?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He laid in the bed, staring up at the ceiling. His limbs felt heavy, like he was laying under a big, heavy blanket of snow. At the same time, he felt far too warm.
> 
> He startled as the door opened, and a man stepped into the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features graphic depictions of CBT and sexual abuse.
> 
> Reader Discretion is Advised.

Jamesy whimpered the moment the lights were turned off in the hospital room. He really had nothing to do but wait for his guardians to come back in the morning. He clung to his bear and triceratops.

He tried to get comfortable in the small bed, making sure to not move his right hand. He couldn't get comfortable while laying on his back, trying his hardest to focus on how his bed felt when he cuddled with Daddy and Uncle Sam. The way Uncle Sam would rub his back while he laid his head against Daddy's chest, hoping that he could pretend enough to feel like his family was cuddling with him.

It didn't seem to work.

He laid in the bed, staring up at the ceiling. His limbs felt heavy, like he was laying under a big, heavy blanket of snow. At the same time, he felt far too warm.

He startled as the door opened, and a man stepped into the room.

"Hello, sweetheart." Daddy.

Old Daddy.

Oh no.

"Daddy..." Jamesy whimpered, his voice barely audible, as if he was talking underwater.

"Hush, darling. You thought you could leave? You truly hate your Daddy so much?" Daddy cooed in a sickening, syrupy sweet voice as he stepped closer and closer to the bed. Jamesy whined as he tried to pull himself out of the bed, only to find that his limbs were frozen in place.

He couldn't move.

"What an awful boy, how could you break your Daddy's heart like this?" Daddy's hand found its way to his belly, which had somehow lost the blanket that was protecting his gowned body from the cold room around him. Despite how cold the room was, he still felt so, so _hot._ He couldn't help the way his body twitched as Daddy's hand grazed across his groin through the thin fabric of his gown.

"No..." Jamesy whimpered, attempting to pull away from the invading hand. A faint, far away beeping could be heard.

"No? Such an awful brat, those people who stole you from me have been raising you to be a terrible child, it seems." Daddy growled, gripping his private parts like a bear trap. He yelped out at the sudden, painful grasp, tears springing to his eyes as he tried to struggle away.

His efforts were quickly corrected by a hard strike to his face, his head spinning with the force of the back-handed slap.

"What a terrible brat, trying so hard to hurt his Daddy. I can't believe they let you get away with such awful manipulations." Daddy growled, sounding all too similar to his new Daddy's voice. The far away beeping got faster, louder.

Jamesy let out a sharp, shrill cry as Daddy's hand twisted, bending his privates into an unnatural angle, sending a sharp, nauseating shock of pain through his entire being. He couldn't help trying to squirm away again, a lab mouse caught beneath the hand of a scientist. He could feel a puddle of hot blood pooling between his legs as Daddy's cruel hand pulled and twisted his sensitive parts.

He just wanted it to stop.

Stop.

_Stop._

" _STOP!_ " Jamesy shrieked, bolting up in the hospital bed. The beeping was unbearably loud and right next to his panic filled head. The door suddenly swung open, a few people stepping in.

" _NO! GET AWAY!_ " Jamesy squealed, trying desperately to struggle away as the people swarmed the bed like flies on rotting meat in the summer sun. "DADDY! PAPA! _HELP!_ "

He cried out as a painful pinch stabbed through his arm.

He couldn't help the way his body felt so, so heavy.

He woke up in the same room, though by then the sun was already shining through the window. The bed was no longer soaked and he felt so, so _tired._

"Jamesy? You awake?" Daddy's head poked through the door.

Jamesy screamed out in terror.


	6. Papa Bear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Captain Rogers, Mr. Wilson, there's been an incident." The nurse's calm, calculated voice explained.

"Captain Rogers, Mr. Wilson, there's been an incident." The nurse's calm, calculated voice explained.

Steve could barely sleep that night, far too strung out from the days events that somehow left him both full of energy and absolutely bone-exhausted. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was the face of the Bucky who fell into the ravine, the one he let slip away the first time.

He was so, so _close_ to losing him again.

The thought made his guts twist into painful knots.

"You're working yourself up over nothing," Sam sighed, pulling Steve into a chest-touching hug to try and get his mind to focus. "We got him to the clinic in time, he probably slept fine."

"I know, just," Steve sighed, leaning his head onto his boyfriend's shoulder. "I'm worried, y'know? I..." A quiet, shuttered gasp, "I-I can't lose him again..."

"And you aren't, he's gonna be back home with us before you know it. You need to trust both him _and_ the doctors," Sam hummed, cupping his cheek in his warm hands. "And I'm gonna be here with you the whole time, no matter what."

"I love you so much." Steve sighed, his aching heart fluttering at the kind, tender embrace of the other man. "I'm sorry for being an idiot."

"You aren't an idiot, man, you're just scared. I'm scared too, but I'm not gonna stress them out more by showing it. They don't deserve that." Sam explained, pulling Steve into a soft, chaste kiss. "Now get dressed, we promised we'd be there as soon as visiting hours started."

So there they were, being led by the nurse to Bucky's room, where they have been told there was an 'incident'.

Steve's stomach turned to lead at the words. _Incident._

"What _kind_ of incident?" Sam asked, incredulous. "Is he hurt?"

"No, but we were required to administer sedatives last night during-"

"You _tranquilized_ him?!" For god's sake, Bucky, what the hell did you _do?_

"Steve, let the man finish." Sam huffed, though Steve could tell that he, too, was on edge and worried for their boyfriend's safety. His arms were crossed tight around his chest and his posture was just a _tad_ too perfect to be natural.

"We were alerted to Sergeant Barnes' heart rate increasing around three-oh-seven this morning," The nurse continued. "And when the other nurses and I went in to investigate, he began screaming and attempting to run out of the room. If we did not administer the sedatives, he would have harmed himself or possibly the hospital staff or other patients."

"What caused his heart rate to act up?" Sam asked. Steve was already fuming at the thought of the doctors scaring them, followed by _tranquilizing_ them. They were probably alone and scared and thought they were going back in the ice.

"It was most likely a nightmare, we read in Sergeant Barnes' file that he experiences those frequently?"

"Very." Steve bit out, wanting to just get to the room and comfort his boys already. "Anything _else_ we should know about?"

"well..." The nurse thought for a moment, finding the proper way to word his next emotional blow to Steve's psyche. "When we entered the room, Sergeant Barnes began screaming and asking for 'daddy' and 'papa', we understand he experiences confusion with his mental disorders, so we figured you may understand what he was referring to better than we could. There was also an issue involving urinary incontinence, but we know from the file that that is also common."

Steve and Sam looked at each other.

"...Papa? That's new." Sam mumbled. Steve was already wracking his brain trying to figure out what that could have meant. He always called Sam 'Uncle Sam', so that _couldn't_ be it. Maybe there was someone else in Hydra that the files failed to mention?

He had nothing.

By the time Steve was pulled from his thoughts, he found himself next to Sam in front of the hospital room door. The nurse said he was calling for his Daddy, so that probably meant Jamesy was the one they manhandled last night. He would probably be just waking up from the tranqs, confused and possibly not even _remembering_ the night's events.

"Jamesy?" Steve called as softly as he could as he pushed open the door. He poked his head inside. "You awake?"

He and Sam were both startled half to death as a shrill, eardrum-piercing _scream_ echoed through the hall.

They recognized that type of scream _anywhere._

After a moment of recovery from the sudden shock to his system, Steve's brain came back online. He felt the cold dread of realization set in.

_His nightmare must have been about his old Daddy._

Steve felt _awful_ , having accidentally terrified his already upset, traumatized little boy. The nightmare must've been something truly horrible if Jamesy was still _this_ upset about it.

"Shit..." Steve couldn't help the sick feeling in his stomach. The reminder of what Pierce had done to them, the way Hydra used Pierce to manipulate their mind. Steve had seen the resemblance to himself in the man's face in his younger photographs. Hydra _knew_ Bucky would follow Steve to the ends of the Earth and back.

Even without having his body, they _used him_ to harm Bucky.

"Jamesy, it's okay buddy," Sam was the first to try and speak over the shrill, mortified cries. "It's just us, it's Daddy Steve and Uncle Sam, it's gonna be okay. No one's gonna hurt you."

That still didn't quell the terrified sobs of the little boy in the room.

"Here, Steve, it might be best for you to stay in the lobby until he's calmed down some. Maybe go find a snack he would like?" Sam offered. Steve really didn't have much of a choice, given his only other options were to either listen to his little boy cry his heart out while Sam tried to comfort him, or walk in and scare him half to death in his already upset state.

"...Alright." Steve sighed, already livid at the fact that his little piece of family was hurting so deeply and he was powerless to help. He stepped away from the door as Sam stepped inside, listening to his boyfriend's warm, soothing voice as he attempted to calm the frightened boy down. Steve couldn't bear to listen to the frightened cries anymore, stepping out to the lobby of the clinic and making his way to the waiting room vending machine. Sure, they were already being fed by the hospital staff, but a small bag of chips or a candy bar wouldn't hurt him, right? He managed to get the machine to take his money after said machine spat the bill back out three times and decided to get a chocolate bar for Jamesy, a bag of chips for Sam, and a drink from the soda machine for himself. His stomach was too twisted to handle solid foods at the moment, and he _really_ didn't want to burden the hospital staff by puking on the waiting room floor.

He sat in the waiting room for what felt like an eternity, constantly checking the ticking clock on the wall and listening to the thrum of activity as staff and patients raced around him like ants in a colony.

He was pulled from his thoughts that dragged him deeper and deeper into the dark places in his brain by the sound of his text-tone ringing. He fumbled for the device, hoping it was Sam telling him he could go back to the room now. He sighed in disappointment seeing that it was Natasha who texted him. Not like he was one to complain about her caring about his well-being, however, as he entered the passcode and read the message.

'Update on Barnes?' The grey text bubble read. Steve rubbed his face with the palm of his hand as he thought of what to send back.

'He had a nightmare last night. Started screaming when he saw me this morning.' He could feel his chest tighten as his thumbs typed out the words, seemingly on their own accord, less like he was typing and more like he was talking through his thumbs. The SHIELD therapists told him he experiences some types of dissociation due to his PTSD, though not to the extent that Bucky did, so he figured that this was what they meant; feeling like everything around him didn't _quite_ exist, like the world around him was made only of those sci-fi holograms that Stark always played with.

'Sounds rough, tell him I said hi :)' Steve didn't bother to respond after that, stuffing his phone back into his pocket as he waited.

He didn't dare glance at the clock, not wanting to know exactly how long he had been waiting. He couldn't bear the thought of having only been in that waiting room for ten minutes when it felt like every second was a millennium.

'Is he any better?' Steve had dug his phone back out of his pocket, texting Sam for any updates on whether or not he could see their little boy without terrifying him. After five minutes of no response, Steve decided to scroll through random websites to stave off his petrified boredom. Thankfully, the fact that Bucky was in the hospital had not made it to any news outlets, so he didn't have to worry about a media fire frenzy just yet.

After refreshing his private twitter page about five times, hoping for something new to pop up, he decided to scroll through his phone's photo gallery. He was bored and stressed out to hell and back, give him a break.

He smiled fondly at the photograph of Sam, Jamesy, and himself standing in front of the life-size Triceratops statue from their vacation to Florida a good while back. It felt like just yesterday, seeing his little boy's face shining so bright. Being able to walk around the indoor-outdoor museum with his boyfriend and child, almost feeling like a normal family. Sure, they were anything _but_ normal, but in those bright, exciting moments in their lives, it truly felt like the most normal thing in the world.

Steve nearly jumped out of his skin as a text-tone shook him from his thoughts, the small text banner labelled 'Sam' filling him with sudden anxiety.

'He's doing alright now, still a little shaken up, but we've been talking about his nightmare and his feelings. He has something he wants to share, head over.' The message had read out. Steve sighed, blowing out the anxious energy that had been building up in his chest. He stood from the barely-comfortable waiting room chair and made his way back to the hospital room.

He just barely hesitated as he reached for the door knob.

"Hey, Steve, c'mon in." Sam's voice, warm and soft, greeted him as he opened the door.

"Hey there, lamb." Steve hummed as he spotted the little boy in the bed, clinging tight to his stuffed animals and looking so extraordinarily small in the hospital bed, surrounded by tubes and machines. He had to shake away the reminder of the photographs from the Soldier's files, the images of him strapped to the chair that burned the memories of his life from his skull. Jamesy didn't respond, keeping his head down and eyes focused on his blanket-covered feet at the end of the bed. Steve took the silence in stride and sat next to his boyfriend in the hospital room chairs.

"Okay, now that Daddy's here, do you want to share what you told me?" Sam offered to Jamesy, who's eyes flicked around as he focused on the words that must have been filling up his little head.

"Uhm..." Jamesy began. "...Daddy, y'know..." He had to think for another moment. "Y'know how I call y'u _Daddy_ , bu'h call Sam _Uncle Sam_ , even though he's kin'a a daddy too?"

Steve thought for a moment, then nodded in response. "Yeah, I know?"

"Well, uhm..." Another pause. "I kin'a feel, uhm, like I don' wanna call him tha' anymore. I feel like I like callin' him _papa_ more. Caus' he's not _r'eely_ like an uncle."

"That's perfectly fine, Jamesy." Steve smiled, happy that the 'something to share' message Sam had sent didn't lead to anything dangerous or scary. "Whatever you feel comfortable with, we'll support you. He _is_ more of a papa than an uncle, huh?" He hummed, letting Sam's hand intertwine with his own on the arm rest of the chair next to his.

Jamesy nodded in agreement, before continuing his thoughts. "Cause, uhm, las' nigh', I had'd a _r'eely_ bad dr'eem 'bout ol' Daddy, an' it made'd me feel r'eely scared an' when I woke'd up there were doctors an' stuff an' I call'd f' y'u an papa wit'out thinkin' bout it an it feel'd better sayin' that. It made'd me feel better callin' him papa, like ha'ffin' two daddies instead of jus' one."

"I think that sounds good, too. Do you like it?" Steve looked over to his boyfriend next to him, catching the soft, fond expression that played across his features.

"I like it, feels more personal, y'know?" Sam nodded. "Thank you for sharing, Jamesy. I know the dream last night was really scary for you, and I'm so proud of you for being brave."

Jamesy nodded, tucking his face behind Winnie's fluffy little head. "It was jus' a bad dr'eem, ol' Daddy can't hurt me anymore caus' caus' I ha'f Daddy an Papa t' protec' me." They could hear the shy smile in his tired little voice.

"You've got that right, pal." Steve smiled before remembering something. "Here, I got you something." He hummed, fishing the chocolate bar from his jacket pocket, thankful that it had not melted. Jamesy's eyes lit up at the sight of the offered sweets, eagerly taking the wrapped bar with a chirped out 'thank'y'u'.

There was a knock at the door, followed by the doctor stepping into the room.

"Hello, Sergeant Barnes," The doctor's clear, sweet voice filled the room. "I'm just coming in to check up on you, how are you feeling this morning?"

Jamesy's eyes avoided her like the plague, staring down at the bear in his lap. "'M ok'eh." He mumbled. "Uhm, th' spot on m' tummy 's startin' t' get kin'a itchy, though."

The doctor took her time examining the little boy, checking his breathing and heart rate and jotting down notes, all the while Steve sat straight as a board, anxious that Jamesy would start panicking at any given moment.

"Do you know if he'll be able to come back to the tower with us soon?" Sam piped up, earning the doctor's attention.

"We're still running a few," The doctor thought, knowing from the files that they _really_ didn't appreciate the word 'tests'. "We're checking on a few other samples to make sure he's completely healthy. We found something a little strange in a recent urine sample, most likely just a small UTI, nothing to be _too_ worried about. A quick run of antibiotics should do the trick, though we aren't entirely sure if that's what it is or not yet, so we're probably going to keep him for a few more days just to be sure. That, and to keep an eye on his current condition, in case anything changes with his blood vessel."

Jamesy sighed in disappointment, already deflating at the prospect of having to sleep alone in the hospital room for even just one more night. Steve fared no better, tensing up at the fact that his little boy would be stuck, scared and alone, without his Daddy or his Papa to keep him company.

After the doctor finished her examination and left the room, Jamesy let himself curl up on the bed. Steve wanted nothing more than to crawl into that bed with him and cuddle him and just make every bad thing that ever happened to him go away. However, neither of them could fit in the small hospital bed with him, so he had to make do with sitting at his bed side with the knowledge that they would be able to cuddle in bed together soon enough.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay, lamb." Steve hummed, moving his free hand to hold the little boy's metal one. "I know this stinks, but it'll be all done soon enough, then we can all go home together. Just gotta tough it out a little longer." He knew he wasn't the best at giving advice or pep talks, hell he wasn't even that good at it back in the 40s when it was his _job_ to give pep talks and sell war bonds. But this felt less like a stage play and more like paternal instincts to comfort his little boy kicking in. Jamesy looked up to him, his eyes focusing somewhere on his face, as he sniffled back a few tears.

"I jus' wanna go home..." Jamesy whimpered, and Steve could feel his poor heart shatter at the sound of his precious boy's exhausted, strained, tear-logged voice.

"I know, I know you do, but here, lamb," Steve let go of his boyfriend's hand to scoot his chair closer to the bed, wrapping his arms around the little boy as best as he could at such an awkward side-angle. "Home isn't just the tower, or just Manhattan, or even just _Earth._ Home is where your family is, where the people you love and care for most can hold you when you cry and be there to laugh beside you when you're happy. Home, to us, is wherever you are. We're your home, the way you're ours."

A tired, watery smile crawled its way onto the little boy's face. Steve knew he did good.

They weren't out of the woods yet, but at least now they had a flashlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **References:**
> 
> The mentioned photograph of the three in front of a Triceratops statue is a reference to chapter 6 of [Fun For the Whole Family™ 2: Highway to Hell (aka Florida)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23940169/chapters/57657832)


	7. Comfort Through Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winnie had woken up at some ungodly hour in the morning. Daddy and Papa had gone home and he was left all alone in the tiny, empty hospital room. The only thing to keep the little teddy company was the beeping of the machine beside the bed. The first thing he noticed was a painful, almost burning feeling between his legs. The second thing he noticed was that he really, _really_ needed to pee.
> 
> Didn't his body usually do that on its own?

It hurt.

_It hurt._

Winnie had woken up at some ungodly hour in the morning. Daddy and Papa had gone home and he was left all alone in the tiny, empty hospital room. The only thing to keep the little teddy company was the beeping of the machine beside the bed. The first thing he noticed was a painful, almost burning feeling between his legs. The second thing he noticed was that he really, _really_ needed to pee.

Didn't his body usually do that on its own?

He struggled to try and get his body to function properly, he knew there was some kind of thing under the bed, and that he was _supposed_ to pee into it because they couldn't leave the bed to walk to a bathroom. The nurses had explained that, it was okay. They had done it before too, it was just part of being stuck in the hospital bed. No big deal.

So why couldn't he go?

He whined as a sharp, burning feeling stabbed through his lower body. He was too warm and uncomfortable and felt like he was going to burst but couldn't do a thing about it.

"Calm down." The Soldier growled, waking up from the distressed whimpers of his system mate mixed with the uncomfortable pain in his groin. "The doctor mentioned a possible UTI earlier, that's probably it."

That would mean that they had to call the doctor for help.

That would mean someone looking at- or even _touching_ \- their private parts.

Their combined anxiety clamped their chest in a vice grip, the machine beside them betraying their panic as the incessant beeping grew louder and faster in time with their racing heart beat.

Winnie whined as another sharp, burning pain dragged them from their thoughts. The Soldier sighed, hugging the frightened bear to his chest.

He felt ridiculous. Logically, the item held to his chest was a lifeless amalgamation of fabric and stuffing. However, thanks to their half-fucked brain, Winnie had the uncanny ability to project himself onto the plush, convincing their brain that he _was_ the plush. Holding and comforting the plush, in turn, was holding and comforting Winnie himself. The Soldier found it confusing, but didn't bother to dwell on it.

His paternal instincts were kicking in, though he wasn't sure why.

He gently rocked the fretful bear in his arms, thinking through his limited options. No matter what, the doctors would find out about the pain. He could either hide it until they found out and humiliated him for it, or he could tell them now in the chance of getting some help to ease the pain.

It was hard to focus on fear with how badly he had to piss. Sure, he enjoyed holding it in for a while before being forced to wet himself, but that was only with the Captain and the Falcon, and it didn't hurt the way it did at that current moment.

He had to be brave, he had to take whatever the doctors would do to him in order to help Winnie feel better. Let alone make _himself_ feel better. He didn't like this at _all._

But he had no choice.

The Soldier bulked up his courage, held the bear close to his chest, took a deep breath, and pressed the nurse call button on the remote beside the hospital bed.

He waited for what felt like an eternity, the anticipation killing him. What if the nurse never came? What if they all abandoned the clinic and left them there to die? What if-

There was a knock at the door, followed by the tell-tale creaking of the door hinges.

"Sergeant Barnes? You called?" One of the nurses- female, black hair, Asian, late thirties- peaked into the room.

Why did it have to be one of the female nurses?

Truthfully, this would be uncomfortable and humiliating to admit, no matter _what_ nurse walked through that door.

"Having problems." The Soldier mumbled, refusing to look anywhere _near_ the nurse's direction. Not that he wanted to disrespect her, he just felt like worms were writhing beneath his skin at the thought of having to explain something like this.

But it needed to be done.

"Can you describe the problems? I need to know how you're feeling in order to help." The nurse explained, picking up a clip board from the front of the hospital bed.

"Can't urinate, burning pain, too hot." The Soldier bit out, subconsciously cupping his metal hand over the ears of the bear in his arms like a parent preventing their child from hearing a bad word. "Really need to urinate. But can't."

"Alright, that's pretty serious, we're going to have to get a catheter to assist-"

The Soldier was already tensed, the annoying beeping betraying his stoic face. He knew what a catheter was, Hydra had used them _plenty_ of times. Most of the time they weren't for any medical reason, instead just shoving long and increasingly thick tubes in his dick for their own sick kicks.

But these were _real_ doctors. The Captain and the Falcon said he had to trust them to help him. He knew that if he left their body the way it currently was, their bladder could rupture and they could die.

He was their protector, dammit, he could handle this. He was _designed_ to handle this.

That didn't make him any less terrified.

"It's going to be okay," The nurse reassured him, obviously able to see the panic gripping him. "Dr. Byrnn will use a numbing agent to reduce any pain you may feel. I'm going to page her right now." With that, the nurse left the room.

The Soldier would be trying to escape, if it wasn't for the unbearable, uncomfortable feeling that clawed at his insides. First a ruptured blood vessel, now this? What else could go wrong?

'Don't jinx it.' Bucky's voice growled from somewhere deep in their skull.

Before long, the doctor- now known as Dr. Byrnn- stepped through the door with two nurses in tow, one familiar male one, and the female one from just a few minutes ago.

"Hello, Sergeant Barnes, I understand you're experiencing some discomfort?" Dr. Byrnn asked, earning an incredulous sneer from the Soldier. Yes, he was uncomfortable. He was experiencing a _lot_ of discomfort.

"Can't piss. Insides burn. Skin too hot. Fix it." He probably shouldn't have snapped, but she chose to ask that ridiculous question the moment another stab of burning pain clawed its way through his urinary tract. He was exhausted, grumpy, half-high on quickly dissipating painkillers, and in pain, fight him.

"Alright, it's most likely swelling caused by a UTI that is preventing you from urinating, but I'm going to have to check to be sure. I'm going to have you prop your legs up, and then I will examine your penis and urethral opening in order to properly assess the situation. Do you understand, Sergeant Barnes?" Dr. Byrnn explained, immediately putting the Soldier on edge. Something about the calculated, matter-of-fact tone in the doctor's voice rubbed him the wrong way, especially when referring to something so personal and intimate and humiliating.

But then he was reminded of the tired, whimpering teddy clinging to his chest. He needed to just get this over with so they could all feel better and possibly go home sooner rather than later.

"Understood. Just hurry up." He tried not to snap at the doctor for just doing her job and providing him medically informed consent, he really did, but he was already fed up with this whole situation and just wanted to be able to piss, goddammit.

Once the Soldier had his legs situated in the position Dr. Byrnn wanted- feet planted on the bed, knees and thighs apart, practically on display if not for the hospital gown covering him- the doctor wasted no time peeling away the gown from his flushed skin. He tried to focus on literally _anything_ other than the cold, latex-wrapped hands that were currently fondling his painful, overly sensitive sex organs. He found himself focusing on Winnie, gently bouncing the half-dozing bear in his arm. He couldn't help but notice the feeling of the hands pulling back his foreskin, the way it burned like painful chaffing, but chose instead to keep his focus on the bear. He hissed out loud at the feeling of a gloved finger tip pressing against his urethra and, yep, that hurt. That hurt a _lot._

"It appears that I was correct in my assumption, the infection has caused swelling, you'll require a catheter until the swelling goes down in order to avoid exasperating the condition. I'm going to inject a numbing agent now, you may feel a slight pinch." Dr. Byrnn explained, already taking a syringe from one of the nearby nurses.

'Slight pinch' his fucking _ass_. That was not a 'slight pinch', that was a needle getting stabbed into the flesh of his dick. That fucking **hurt.**

The involuntary snarl-yelp that escaped his chest made that fact very, very well known.

He breathed through the residual pain, turning his attention to the fretful teddy laying on his chest. He stroked his metal hand over the soft back of the little bear's head, letting the synthetic texture sensors in his hand send signals of the faux fur to his brain. It felt nice, and the soft pets made Winnie feel better too, so it was a win all around.

"Are you almost done yet?" The Soldier growled, waiting for the pain of a metal rod getting shoved down his dick-hole to hit him the way it always did- like a freight train.

He didn't need an answer, really, as he felt the rush of relief wash over him just seconds later. No pain, no burning, just pure, unadulterated relief as his body was finally, _finally_ able to let go. He couldn't help the whimpering gasp that left his lips.

"Sorry." He suddenly thought to squeak out, realizing that he probably just pissed all over the goddamn bed, or even the poor doctor who was just trying to help him, or-

"It's alright, Sergeant Barnes, you have no need to be sorry. That's what these are for." Dr. Byrnn held up a bag that was connected to a tube, most likely the same tube that was currently invading his internal urethral sphincter. "Once the infection is taken care of, the swelling should cease. We're going to have to keep a catheter inside of you until then, however, to avoid any more obstructions."

The Soldier was already half asleep, no longer hindered by the pain that was grinding against his nerves. He watches as the doctor and nurses moved a few items, switching out the rubber tube for a metal one in his still numbed genitals, and quietly left. He let himself get comfortable again, gently petting the sleeping teddy on his chest as he dozed back off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are not, by any stretch of the imagination, a medical professional. This is entirely based in fiction with only a few google searches as reference. Please do not use ANYTHING mentioned within this story as a form of diagnosis or treatment.


	8. So I Cross My Heart and I Hope to Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's not _that_ bad, buddy." Papa hummed, rubbing his slightly aching shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title comes from the song 'One More Night' by Maroon 5.

"Blech." Jamesy huffed, poking at the hospital food left in front of him. Some overcooked pasta, unseasoned green beans, and a breaded piece of fried meat that he couldn't make heads or tails of. Was it fried chicken? Was it country fried steak?

"It's not _that_ bad, buddy." Papa hummed, rubbing his slightly aching shoulder.

"i miss y'ur dinner..." Jamesy sighed, holding his breath as he shoved a bland noodle into his mouth. They had learned from the Soldier that holding their breath while eating made it to where they couldn't taste what was in their mouth. That saved their life when they were force-fed nutrient replacement paste that tasted like chalk and rot.

"I know, but it's gonna be okay," Papa reassured. "The doctor said you're just about ready to go home, tomorrow we'll be able to go home. I'll make you _whatever_ you want for dinner."

"Can we ha'f _real_ chicken?" Jamesy pulled a face as he poked once again at the fried slab of mystery meat. It was grey inside, but he _still_ couldn't tell if it was supposed to be chicken or steak. "An' som' mac an' cheese?"

"I'm sure I can find a good recipe for some homemade wings, that sounds good. Sound good, Steve?" Papa looked over to Daddy, who nodded in agreement.

"That sounds great, we can stop by the store on our way home tonight so it'll be ready for tomorrow." Daddy hummed in thought. Jamesy smiled at the thought of being able to help his guardians in the kitchen, being able to measure and stir and whatnot. The thought almost distracted him from the bite of mystery meat he took.

_Almost._

"Tha's not chicken." He pulled a face as the taste of overdone steak invaded his senses.

"I'm sorry, lamb, but you've gotta eat." Daddy piped up, already looking worried. "You need to eat enough to stay strong and heal properly."

He sighed in defeat, holding his breath as he choked down the chewy slab of fried rubber the staff were trying to pass off as 'steak'.

"You'd figure a Shield clinic would have better food. We've been saving the world and all they can give is this?" Papa, thankfully, seemed to agree with him that the food looked as terrible as it tasted. "Man, I've had _real_ hospital food better than this. I've had _rations_ better than this."

Jamesy laughed a little, which distracted him just a little more from the food. He managed to clean his plate just by focusing on his guardian's words.

They all jumped slightly, startled by a sudden knock at the door. They easily calmed as Dr. Byrnn walked through the door.

"Hello, Sergeant Barnes, how are you feeling?" Dr. Byrnn inquired, already moving the stethoscope from around her neck to her ears.

"Better." Jamesy tried his best to sound like Bucky. He didn't like sounding like himself around people he didn't really know or trust. He took in a deep breath as Dr. Byrnn pressed the cold stethoscope end to his back, listening to his lungs. He took in another as she moved the end to his ribs, listening for other things in his body. He couldn't help shifting his legs as he was suddenly reminded of the metal tube stuck inside his private parts. They hadn't really forgotten about it, per-say, he was just distracted by the unpleasant food to not notice the unpleasant pressure.

"You said he'll be able to come back home with us tomorrow?" Daddy asked the doctor as she took the stethoscope out of her ears. The look on her face didn't convey a lot of hope for a positive answer.

"Unfortunately, the infection in Sergeant Barnes' urinary tract has not taken to the antibiotics as well as we would have hoped," She began. "We're going to try another antibiotic, but in order to make sure there are no adverse effects, we're going to have to keep him for another night. If the new antibiotics work out, then he'll be able to return with you the day after tomorrow with a prescription."

"And if they _don't_ work out?" Papa asked, Daddy already trying to hide the frustration on his face. Jamesy could _feel_ the energy shift.

"If they don't, we have another to try as a last resort, but that will require him to stay for at least another week. The other antibiotics can have some dangerous side-effects, so we don't tend to use them unless absolutely necessary and under intense supervision. We're hoping the new antibiotics will work well enough to avoid that." Dr. Byrnn explained.

"'Kay..." Jamesy sighed, already defeated at the thought of having to stay in this tiny, uncomfortable bed for yet _another_ night. Looks like he wasn't going to get his good, homemade food for a while.

With a few more explanations to Daddy and Papa, the doctor left, leaving the three alone in silence.

"...I'm sorry, Jamesy." Papa was the first to pipe up. Daddy looked like if he opened his mouth, he would start screaming in frustration. Jamesy just let his head roll down, staring at the blanket covering his legs.

"They _promised._ " Jamesy huffed, already on the verge of tears. He really, _really_ wanted to go home.

"I know, bug, I know." Papa sighed, standing up to hug him from the side of the hospital bed. "But they just want to make sure you're safe. If you went home while still sick, you would just have to come back and stay even _longer._ "

"'S not _fair._ " He couldn't help whining, even if he knew that whining was a manipulation and that he was _asking_ to get beat. "I jus' wanna go home an' sleep 'n m' own bed an' eat our good food an' b' able t not ha'f a stupid rod inside m' an'-an'- _an'_ -"

He couldn't help the hiccuping sob that wracked his body as he leaned into his Papa's chest.

"Oh, dear, I know. I know buddy. It's gonna be okay." Papa reassured him, rubbing his back as he gently rocked him from side to side. "I know you miss the tower, I know you miss us, but it's gonna be okay. You'll be sleeping in your own bed again before you know it.

At some point, Daddy had made his way to the other side of the bed, hugging the both of them the best he could. Jamesy just let himself cry out his pent up frustrations into his guardians' arms.

Once he felt like he had finally cried out all of his tears, he let himself lean back against his pillow. He felt far too tired to keep his head up.

"Don' leave." Jamesy whimpered out, trying desperately to keep his eyes open, as if he were dying.

"Don't worry, lamb, we aren't going anywhere." Daddy hummed, pulling his chair to the side of the bed he was on and sitting down next to him. Papa followed suit, sitting on the chair on his respective side. Jamesy felt a little better, knowing the two were there to keep him safe as he dozed off into a well deserved nap.

He had woken about an hour later, his Papa and Daddy still sitting beside him.

"Hey, lamb," Daddy hummed as Papa set up a tablet on his lap. "There's someone who wants to say hi."

Jamesy stared in confusion as a small ringing tone played from the tablet, followed by a camera view of his own face, followed by Kevin's face popping up on screen.

"Kevin!" Jamesy yelped with glee, hugging the tablet to his chest.

"Hi Jamesy! Your daddy told me you're in the hospital. I'm sending a 'get well soon' card, I hope it gets there soon!" Kevin explained through the camera, before turning the screen to face Mr. Joseph. "Daddy! Jamesy's on the phone!"

Mr. Joseph looked at the camera before smiling. "Hey there, little fella, hope you feel better soon."

"Thank'y'u mister Joseph." He smiled.

He hadn't realized how much time had past by talking to his pen pal friend, until the nurse knocked on the door, reminding them that visitor hours had ended and it was time for Daddy and Papa to go home.

"Aww, bye Kevin. I'll talk to you soon!" Jamesy hugged the tablet again before hanging up the several hour long call, handing the now burning tablet back to his Papa.

With a few exchanges of 'I love you's, a few hugs, and a few kisses, Daddy and Papa left the room, leaving him to snuggle his bear and triceratops in the dark, semi-quiet room.

He would be home in a few days. They would be home before they knew it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **References:**
> 
> Kevin and Mr. Joseph are from [Jamesy and Kevin's Pen Pal Adventures](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24031705/chapters/58012723).
> 
> The knowledge of hospital food in this chapter comes from a google search and is, by no means, a proper judgment of every single hospital's food in the world.
> 
> Also mind the medical jargon, we have absolutely NO idea what we're talking about when it comes to anything related to medicine within this story.


	9. Tell the World I'm Coming Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " _Beyond_ happy. If I never see another hospital again, it'll be too soon." Bucky laughed, leaning his head on Sam's shoulder as Steve sat down beside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title is from the song 'Coming Home' by Dirty Money.

"You happy to be home?" Sam asked as Bucky plopped himself on the couch, filled to the brim from their just finished dinner.

" _Beyond_ happy. If I never see another hospital again, it'll be too soon." Bucky laughed, leaning his head on Sam's shoulder as Steve sat down beside him.

"It's good to have you back. This place isn't quite the same without you here." Sam hummed, wrapping his arm around Bucky's shoulder. "No offense, Steve."

"I was thinking the same thing." Steve smiled, pulling the two men towards him in an awkward side hug on their couch. Had it shrunk since they got back?

Luckily, the new antibiotics that Dr. Byrnn had prescribed worked like a charm, letting the Winter System leave the SHIELD clinic after a grueling week of being treated like a lab rat, complete with rat food for every meal. Now they only had to take two pills every day until the bottle ran out. Even better, the surgical wound had healed with barely a scar, no longer aching like hell or itching to high heaven.

"I'm just happy to have that rod out of my dick. Soldier can be into whatever he wants, just leave me out of it." Bucky half-joked, far too happy with being able to stretch out on the couch with his boyfriends.

'Might try that...' The Soldier mumbled somewhere deep in their skull.

'I didn't mean that literally, you lunatic.' Bucky huffed back. He _really_ didn't feel like dealing with the Soldier's horny antics at that moment.

"Anything you want to watch? That British baking show you like?" Steve asked, hoping to avoid the implications of that previous comment.

"Is there a good baseball game on? I'm honestly too full to watch anything food related." Bucky hummed, satisfied as the TV flicked to a live baseball game. He didn't bother to see the teams, focusing instead on the way his love's bodies felt against him; warm and heavy and grounding.

They were home. They were _safe._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> What started as a cute, fluffy sickfic involving Winnie with a slight cold has quickly evolved into the Winter System dealing with a mysterious, life threatening medical anomaly.
> 
> Any behaviors related to DID or Autism Spectrum Neurodivergency within this story are based on **personal experiences** and are not a scientific basis or professional explanation for either DID systems or Autism Spectrum Neurodivergency. No two people, let alone no two systems, are exactly the same.
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


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